


December Never Felt So Wrong

by LaLainaJ



Series: Make Some Noise [39]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Caroline Visits NOLA, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Outdoor Sex, Play Fighting, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, klarolineauweek, klarolinesmutmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:05:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5599132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's her first Christmas without her mom and picture perfect Mystic Falls is too much for Caroline. She gets in her car and drives, jut to get away. She ends up in New Orleans, where Klaus is more then happy to be the one playing the distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**December Never Felt So Wrong**

**(Prompt from an Anon: "The first Chistmas since her mother died, Caroline decides to escape the blue of being home without family and take a trip to NOLA where Klaus eagerly invites her into his home and shows her how the southern city does the holidays. When she's still obviously feeling down, smutty comfort ensues. Could be canon, semi canon, or completely au as needed." Title from 'Winter Song' by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson. Smut.)**

She tenses, when the stool next to her is taken. The legs of the stool scrape loudly against the cheap tiles underfoot and everyone in the sparsely populated bar looks over, with varying degrees of interest. Caroline ducks her head, avoiding the curious eyes. She'd wanted to disappear, and had picked this place, outside of The French Quarter, to do so, while she tried to gather her thoughts.

New Orleans might be a party town, but at 11 AM on Christmas Eve the bar Caroline had wandered into was mostly empty. Two guys at the bar, a small group of middle aged women in the corner. A bartender, fussing with some paperwork, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else.

And Caroline, who's now nursing a glass of wine at the previously unoccupied side of the bar, and wondering how exactly she'd gotten here.

She'd tried so hard, dug deep and pasted on smiles. Decorated and baked and hunted down the perfect gifts, for everyone on her list. Caroline had always loved Christmas, and she'd thought she could do it, thought she could fake it, until she made it, so to speak. She thought if she went through the motions, that things would just click into place, and she'd feel happy again, if only for a little while.

But everything was different this year. And nothing would ever be the same.

Elena was locked in a coffin somewhere, frozen in time. Bonnie, obsessed with freeing her, and with trying to stop Damon from going off the rails. Stefan had his hands full with that situation, and last she'd heard (via postcard) Tyler was somewhere on the west coast, learning to deal with being a werewolf again. Matt was trying so hard to be normal and Caroline didn't have the heart to mess that up for him.

And, worst of all, her mother was gone. And Caroline missed her.

It was a gnawing ache, and things, both big and little, made it worse, with every passing day. She missed the way her mom made cocoa, just right, on the stove. She missed her house, the decorations she'd grown up with, the secret nooks and crannies where her mother had always stashed Caroline's presents.

But it was all gone.

And as hard as Caroline tried to deny it, she couldn't escape it. She was cornered at the grocery store by her old math teacher, who wanted to know how she was coping. She'd driven by her old house, and the light display was a terrible, tacky, mess that Caroline would never have allowed. She tried to make her grandma's sugar cookies, but they just tasted wrong.

Anger, frustration, sadness, loneliness. It built and it built and it built.

And Caroline hadn't been able to take it.

Yesterday, finishing up wrapping gifts, Christmas carols playing softly in the background, she'd glanced out the window of her apartment, glimpsed perfect, fluffy snow falling over the town.

It had been like a snow globe, come to life, but all Caroline felt was numb.

She'd snapped, grabbed her car keys, and fled. No bag, no phone, she'd barely even paused for shoes.

She'd driven south until the snow stopped, then further, until patches of brown, mucky fields outnumbered the drifts.

She drove until her car was running on fumes, filled it up, and kept going.

Didn't really understand what she was doing, until she passed the sign that said 'Welcome to New Orleans' in the early hours of the morning.

Mentally berated herself for not taking that exit to Florida. She hadn't seen or heard from Klaus in almost a year, he'd kept his promise of time and distance. She wasn't sure if seeing him now, when she was kind of a mess, was a good idea.

But spending Christmas completely alone would be even worse than spending it in the town that no longer felt like home.

The person beside her doesn't say anything, and Caroline's grateful. She's a people person usually. But she's so not in the mood to hear someone else's tale of holiday woe.

A second later she registers the too slow lub-dub of a non-human heart. And then the scent of his skin hits her, familiar but distant, a memory she's tried to let go of.

She should have known Klaus would find her.

Caroline twists on her stool, but he's not looking at her. He's staring at the bartender, an annoyed expression on his face. The woman takes her time, wandering over, asks what she can get him, like it's the biggest imposition she's ever faced.

Klaus orders champagne.

She tries not to smile. "Still not our thing," Caroline tells him dryly.

Klaus grins, when he turns to her, "So you say, love."

They're silent, as they wait for the bottle, and Caroline's fingers tap nervously on the bar top. Klaus dismisses the bartender, and pops the cork himself, pouring two glasses and handing her one, "A toast," he says, tipping his glass towards her, "to Caroline Forbes showing up in my city. And people say that naughtiness is never rewarded this time of year."

Caroline rolls her eyes, fighting harder not to seem amused, "I'm pretty sure I could make an awesome Santa Klaus joke right now."

"I'd rather you didn't," he sniffs disdainfully. "I am older then that silly fairy tale, by several centuries, you know."

She'd never really thought about it before.

Caroline takes a sip, studies him over the rim of her glass, "So Christmas isn't really a thing you do then?"

Klaus shrugs, his eyes never leaving her face. "Perks of a long life, you pick and choose the things you carry with you. And there often wasn't the time to celebrate, in the past."

"So I'm not crashing anything, not taking you away from anyone?"

"Nothing of import, sweetheart. I promise you. But I'm curious, about what brings you here?"

Caroline swallows hard, past the lump that's sprung up in her throat. "My mom died. Cancer."

Klaus' eyes soften, but Caroline notes no surprise in his features. "I'm sorry to hear that. She loved you."

She clears her throat, blinks hard. "Yeah. Things were rough, for a while, after my dad left. But these last few years were really good. And I couldn't face Christmas in Mystic Falls without her. I felt like I was suffocating, you know? I just took off."

It means something, that she'd come here, Caroline knows. Something big. But it's not something that she can handle pondering right now.

Klaus, with his impeccable ability to read her, doesn't push. He slides off of his stool, and digs out his wallet. He throws some cash on the bar, and snatches up the bottle, before offering her his arm, staring at her pointedly until she takes it, "Now, it seems to me that a change of scenery is what you need, love. So how about I make good on my offer, and show you New Orleans?"

She feels lighter, as she hops off the stool, more relaxed then she's been in a long time, when she takes his arm, "I might have a list," Caroline confesses, "of things I want to see, just so you know."

"I'd expect nothing less. But I do wonder when you had time to make this list? I was under the impression this trip was spur of the moment."

He sounds far too knowing, far too smug. Caroline hates that her steps falter, hates the heat she feels creeping up her neck. She tosses her hair back, and stares straight ahead, "It's not a new list," she admits.

She won't admit that it's long. That she'd started it after listening to his voicemail, that she goes back and adds things, when she needs a distraction.

That she's looked into Tulane and Loyola and UNO and idly priced out apartments.

It was just curiosity, Caroline told herself. She'd always wanted to leave small town life behind, always wanted to try her luck in a city. New Orleans was as good as any.

And it's not like she'd _done_ anything about it.

Until now.

"Well, we'll see what things we can cross off, hmm? I reserve the right to veto anything too abhorrently touristy."

Caroline snorts, knocks her elbow into his side, "Don't be a snob, Klaus."

And really, who's he fooling? Caroline's ninety percent certain that anywhere she really wants to go, anything she really wants to do, Klaus will tag along. He maybe won't be happy about it, and he'll likely complain. But he'll be there.

It's comforting, right now. Because there's no one else in her life that she could say the same about, with the same amount of confidence.

Probably why she'd driven all the way here, without consciously allowing herself to decide to do so.

Klaus is in the middle of a speech about how he built this city, ('So it's not snobbery, love, simply experience and impeccable taste…') but Caroline finds herself not paying attention to the words, as he leads her outside, just savoring the sound of his voice, as it weaves around her, inhaling the air – different from Mystic Falls, not as chilled or fresh – and eyeing the new sights with interest.

Klaus offers her the bottle, and Caroline takes a sip, before she hands it back, her hand still snug in the crook of his arm. He pauses, on a corner, waits for him to glance at him in question, "What's first on that list of yours, Caroline?"

"Well," Caroline says slowly, "Gonna have to go with food. I haven't eaten in like sixteen hours so take me to the beignets."

Klaus makes a turns towards the right, and begins walking, "I know just where to go."

"Great! And thanks, Klaus," Caroline says, squeezing his arm, trying to show her gratitude, "for doing this."

Klaus nods, the dimple in his cheek deepening when he smiles, "Not necessary, love. But you're welcome. And I want you to know that you're _always_ welcome."

She knew that, deep down. And she also knew she'd come to the right place.

She's giggling, by the time they cross the threshold of Klaus' front door, and she's not even drunk. The single bottle of champagne had been finished hours ago, and she'd sampled enough Cajun food to be really, really glad that she didn't need to worry about counting calories anymore.

She'd ordered one Hurricane, just to try it, but the rum was potent, so she refused a second. Intoxication wasn't the goal, and if she'd learned anything from the amount of time she'd been forced to endure Damon Salvatore it was that liquor wasn't the best coping mechanism, even if her liver would always heal itself.

Klaus has been telling her stories, not skimping on the embarrassing ones (and oh, the blackmail material she now has on Rebekah!), had coaxed smiles and eventually laughs from Caroline. She's shared her own, and somehow it's less painful, to talk of her parents and Christmas celebrations with distance between her and Mystic Falls. Klaus has done what Caroline thought impossible, completely taken her mind off things. She doesn't feel empty, or lonely or directionless.

He'd dismissed her plans to find a hotel, pointing out that it would be difficult, this time of year ('Unless you'd like to stay in some by the hour hovel, that is'), and that he had plenty of guest bedrooms, especially considering that both Rebekah and Elijah had chosen to live outside the large, gated mansion Klaus occupied.

She'd ribbed him about personal growth, and he'd merely rolled his eyes, affecting a long suffering air. Confessed that he had guards stationed near their homes.

Caroline supposed there was only so much change one could expect from a man who'd spent a thousand years dodging his psycho dad's attempts on his life.

Klaus motions for her to follow him upstairs, flicking on lights as he goes, and leads her to a room on the third floor. She spies a phone on the side table, and lets out a groan. He looks at her, concern flitting across his face, "I need to call Bonnie. Let her know I'm okay."

He nods in understanding, taking a step back, "Ah. I'll leave you to that, then. My room's across the hall. Knock when you're done, and I'll scrounge you up something for you to sleep in."

Caroline offers him a grateful smile, sinking down on the side of the bed. She picks up the phone, as Klaus closes the door behind him, and dials quickly. This is definitely a rip the band aid clean off kind of situation.

Bonnie answers on the third ring, voice wary, "Hello?"

"Hey, Bon," Caroline greets, trying to sound perky. "Merry Christmas!"

Bonnie's not having it, and her reply is scolding, "You scared the crap out of me, Caroline."

Caroline winces, "Yeah. Sorry about that. I should have grabbed my phone."

"I called you six times, left like twenty texts. Then Damon reminded me I was a witch."

She hadn't decided if she was going to be completely honest about where she was, but it sounded like a locator spell had taken the lying option away.

"Oh. Well, New Orleans is really nice, FYI. All sorts of cool witchy stuff. You should totally check it out sometime."

"What are you doing, Caroline?" Bonnie asks. Her tone's both gentle and bewildered, but at least she doesn't sound pissed.

Caroline flops back on the bed, letting out a long huff of air, "Honestly? I have no idea. I couldn't be in Mystic Falls anymore, Bonnie. It was like one of those tiny rooms in movies where the walls close in and crush you. But I needed something… familiar, I guess."

"So… Klaus?" Bonnie asks, skeptically, making a valiant attempt at neutrality that Caroline appreciates. "You went to Klaus? What about Steven? Or one of your Aunts?"

Caroline let out a humorless laugh, "So they can ask me about how I'm dealing with my loss? Or about college, and the future I'm preparing for? The one I'll only get for a couple of years, tops, because my face will always be seventeen? I can't pretend to be okay and pretend to be human at the same time."

Bonnie's silent, for a long time, and Caroline listens to her breathing on the other end, "I don't think I've noticed that you were pretending. And I'm sorry."

Ugh. Caroline had thought she was over crying, but tears well up, once again. "You have a lot on your plate, Bonnie. You don't need to worry about me."

"I do, though. Tell me you're safe?"

"Completely," Caroline assures Bonnie. "Currently lying on the comfiest bed ever."

"Alone?" Bonnie asks, the question teasing and innuendo laden.

Caroline makes a strangled noise, part shocked squeal, part laugh, "Yes, alone. Geez."

"Just thought I'd check," Bonnie replies breezily. "I don't need the details, if that changes, by the way. But I hope you have a good Christmas, Caroline."

"Thank you. Merry Christmas, Bon. Love you."

"Love you too. When will you be back?" Bonnie asks, clearly relieved to steer the conversation away from Klaus.

Caroline hesitates, "I don't know. I didn't plan any of this. A couple of days? Probably."

"Well, I have this number now. If you don't call me, I'll call you. And if you don't answer I might have to come check out the witchy side of NOLA."

Caroline shakes her head, and amused smile crossing her lips at the implied threat there. "Gotcha. I will call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. Night, Care."

"Goodnight, Bonnie."

Caroline sets the phone back in the cradle, kind of amazed by how well that had gone. She'd expected a lecture, recriminations, a list of every wrong Klaus had ever perpetuated.

It's not like she's forgotten them, but she's got wrongs of her own, steadily piling up. And with only a couple of years of vampirism under her belt. She's afraid to think about what that list will look like if she makes it to a century, let alone a millennium.

But those thoughts are too dark after a good day.

Caroline kicks off her shoes and pads across the room. She lets herself out, crosses the hall and taps lightly on Klaus' door. His, "Come in," is immediate, and when she pokes her head in he's on a couch in a little sitting area, dressed for bed with his bare feet propped up on a coffee table. He tosses a book aside, and waves her in.

She enters slowly, very aware, Bonnie's insinuations ringing in her mind, that she's walking into Klaus' bedroom. She tries not to stare at him, but she's definitely filing this particular version of Klaus away for later contemplation. "I don't think I've ever seen your arms before," she blurts out, eyeing the black tank and sweatpants he's wearing.

Klaus quirks an amused brow as he stands, "Now, love, that's not strictly true. I know you've not forgotten our little interlude in the woods. You saw a lot more than just my arms. I put in a great deal of effort, to ensure it would be memorable. And considering the number of times you came for me I can't see how it wouldn't have been."

Caroline's eyes widen, and her voice gets higher when she sputters, "I just meant… layers. Jackets. Henley's!"

Klaus laughs, as he brushes past her, brushing his arm against hers in a way that has to be on purpose, given the expansive square footage of the room. "Speaking of," he says, picking up a folded pile of clothes, "I'm sure Rebekah has things lying around that would fit you better, but she gets a bit cranky when people touch her things so mine will have to suffice."

Caroline believed that. And she'd rather not get her heart ripped out, for deigning to touch something of Rebekah's. "This is fine, thanks again," she takes the bundle from his hands, preparing to turn around and go back to the guest room, when Klaus hand on her arms stop her, he leans in, brushes a kiss across her cheek, softly inhaling in a way that makes her shiver, before he pulls away, "Goodnight, Caroline," he murmurs, his rough palm gliding down her skin.

And maybe taking this trip on a whim has permanently screwed with her impulse control, but Caroline makes another split second decision. "Oh, screw it," she mutters, dropping the clothes to the floor and pressing her body up against Klaus'.

Today's the best day she's had in months, and she doesn't want it to end just yet.

Her hands land on his shoulders, one sliding into his hair as she presses her mouth to his. Klaus stumbles back a half step, before he pushes forward, meeting her kiss without hesitation, his hands pulling her into him harder.

Caroline scrapes her teeth over his bottom lip, sucks until he opens with a moan, rising to her toes to take the kiss deeper.

She rips his shirt off, because it's only fair. A laugh bubbles out at the affronted expression he makes when he pulls back. Klaus eyes flare, a ring of gold brightening his iris,' and Caroline is soon flat on her back in his bed.

And she'd lied earlier, because this one is even nicer than the one in the guest room.

It's an idle thought, quickly chased away as Klaus' mouth finds her neck, zoning in on the sensitive areas he'd mapped out that day in the woods, until she's got a leg hooked around his hip and her head thrown back in a silent plea for more.

She feels him smile against her skin, and he obliges, his lips drag down the line of her sternum even as his hands push her shirt up. He removes it carefully, and painfully slowly, and Caroline assumes it's payback for the way she'd ripped his.

She arches up, pressing her chest into his, and undoes the clasp on her bra herself, flinging it aside and pulling him down, taking his mouth in a demanding kiss.

Caroline flips them, while he's distracted, though she knows it's only because he'd allowed it. Klaus grabs her hips, and pulls her up higher, sitting up so he can recline against the headboard. He licks his lips, his eyes wandering down her body appreciatively, lingering on her breasts, and her thighs below where her skirt has been hitched up. "So much lovelier than in my memories," he muses, resting a hand on her stomach.

She places hers over top, encourages it to slide up. She wants him to touch more of her, her skin prickling in anticipation. Caroline tips her head back when he cups her breast, thumb rubbing over the nipple. She lets out a whimper, feeling the heat of his mouth on the other, grinding down against his abdomen.

She's not thinking, and it's amazing.

Klaus' free hand grasps her ass, helping her to rock against him, but it's more frustrating than anything. She can't get any real friction where she wants it. Caroline digs her nails into his shoulders, leaning back, "Too many clothes," she gasps, reaching behind her for his waistband.

Klaus smirks up at her, a mischievous light in his eyes. She's on her back again before she can blink, and Klaus has ripped off her underwear and his head is between her thighs, "Not what I meant… oh!"

He doesn't tease her, there's none of the slow, tortuous buildup he'd treated her to that time in the woods. He licks her clit, hooks two fingers inside of her clenching body. It's ridiculously fast, her head thrashing on the pillow as she fists the sheets, her thighs shaking as he works her up higher, little appreciative murmurs about how good she tastes and how gorgeous she looks, spread out on his bed, encouraging the coil of arousal.

She lets go with a cry, her hips arching up against his mouth. She tugs at his hair, still quivering, the only word in her brain is more. More of him, more of this feeling. She pulls harder, when he seems to want to take his sweet time. Klaus lets out a groan, looking up to meet her eyes. Caroline brings her knees up, "Inside me," she demands, her voice hoarse. "Now."

Once again, Klaus flips them. Caroline sits up and shakes her hair out of her face, pinning him with an annoyed look, "You know, I am really getting tired of you interrupting me."

"You'll forgive me, love. I'm sure of it," Klaus rasps. He brings his knees up behind her and tilts her hips, lifting her and positioning her over his cock as he kicks his pants away. "Lean back," he tells her, eyes hot and coaxing. "And play with your nipples for me."

The dirty request sends another stab of want through her and Caroline moans, letting his legs support her weight and bringing her hands up to her breasts. He thrusts up, and pulls her down, sheathing himself inside of her in one delicious movement, and Caroline's eyes slam shut, a gasp leaving her lips.

Caroline rolls her hips, tries to move, but he won't let her. Her eyes crack open, peeved. "Better," Klaus murmurs, in satisfaction. "I want you to look at me, Caroline." One of his hands dips lower, curving over her thigh until his thumb parts her folds, seeking out her clit. He rubs, eyes on her face, on the flutter of her eyelashes.

She doesn't close them, however, holds his gaze, as her skin grows hot to the touch, the muscles in her stomach pulled taut. She's just about to beg, needs him to move, her fingers rolling her nipples roughly in search of something, when Klaus' grip relaxes, and he encourages her to slide back, and let herself fall down. She looks down, to where they're connected, watching him move inside of her, a strangled whimper escaping as she speeds up.

Klaus sits up abruptly, wrapping her legs around his waist, resting his forehead on her shoulder. The noises he makes, low and needy, his hands on her back, frantic, like he can't get enough of her skin, are everything she'd remembered, and more.

It's a heady feeling, to be wanted like that. Intoxicating.

Klaus' hand slips between them, finding the bundle of nerves that will send her reeling. A few circles, one firm pinch and Caroline's shaking against Klaus, his name on her lips as she orgasms, limbs clutching her to him tightly. He follows with a groan, his hips jerking underneath her.

She's still panting, her heartbeat galloping, when Klaus falls back against his pillows, tugging her down with him, a hand burying itself in the hair at the back of her neck.

She thinks about rolling off of him, about retreating to the guestroom. A bed, Klaus' bed, is different than the woods, when they had both known that time was short.

But she finds she doesn't want to leave. She feels good, where she is, almost wants to purr, at the gentle tugging of his fingers in her hair.

And she's not the least bit tired, and from the way Klaus' cock is twitching against her thigh, she doesn't think he is either.

Caroline lifts her head, folds her arm underneath her so she can look at him, take in the soft content expression that she knows he doesn't wear often. "I'm glad I came here," she tells him, and she means it. "I'm almost sorry it took me so long."

Klaus smiles, his fingertips trailing lightly down her spine, tracing the dips reverently, "I said a year, or a century, love. So I can't be upset that it was only a year."

She narrows her eyes at him playfully, "No one likes a know-it-all, Klaus."

"I've lived a millennium. If anyone knows it all, it's me, don't you think?"

Instead of answering she traces the tattoo on his shoulder, dropping her mouth after a moment and doing it again, with her tongue. She feels more than hears the harsh breath in Klaus takes, when she scrapes her teeth over the curve of his neck.

Caroline thinks she'll stay the couple days she mentioned to Bonnie. Maybe a week or two. Until she's stored up enough of this feeling, enough good to face what's left of her life back in Mystic Falls.


	2. One Of Those March Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline finds that she needs another break. At least this time she calls first...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Day Two of klarolineauweek. AU: Butterfly Effect.

She's rudely awoken by a knock on the door of her hotel room, at 4AM. It's the fifth day of her second visit to New Orleans, and she's kind of exhausted, having only crawled into bed an hour or so earlier. She rolls over, stuffs her head under a pillow. But the knock comes again, louder and more insistent. Cursing sleepily, Caroline throws back the covers.

This had better be an emergency, or else someone was getting eaten.

It's been late nights and early mornings since she'd driven into the city. Klaus has a never ending list of places to show her, things to do. And she loves it, feels so relaxed that she almost feels guilty about it.

Shuffling towards the door, Caroline tugs her tank top back into place. Briefly debates pants, before deciding she's too tired to care. They were only legs, her mystery visitor could get over it.

The knock comes again, and she mumbles a, "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," as she fumbles with the lock. She tugs the door open, leans heavily against the frame with a yawn that has her head tipping back. Squinting, she recognizes a vampire that works for Klaus. He looks hunted, eyes widening as he takes in her disheveled appearance. "Oh, hello, minion number seventeen," Caroline drawls sarcastically. "What can I do for you?"

He shifts nervously, hands buried in his pockets. "Klaus sent me. Told me to bring you to the house. There's been a threat."

That wakes her up a little. "What kind of threat?"

"The kind that Klaus is dealing with by tearing off limbs. And I've been told that mine'll be next if you're not tucked into a guest room within the hour, so…"

He looks pleading, but Caroline's still cranky about the late night wake up call. It makes her a little mean, "You know that won't actually kill you, right? They'll totally grow back."

He pales, goes a little green. And geez, you'd think a blood drinking vampire would be made of sterner stuff, wouldn't you? Caroline sighs, waves him into her room, "I'm kidding, relax. Come in, let me pack up a few things."

"Klaus said…"

She cuts him off with a withering glare, "Yeah, I'm fully aware that he's stocked his ginormous house with all my very favorite things. Trust me, we've had words about me not staying there. But I can't…"

Caroline cuts herself off abruptly, her teeth clinking together with an audible sound. The poor guy already feared for his extremities. No need to word vomit her complicated feelings about Klaus, and her current relationship with Klaus, and her attempts to keep everything tidy and manageable, at least in her own mind, all over him too.

She takes a deep breath, forces a smile that's as friendly as she can manage, "Look, I'll come quietly, and we'll be there well within your timetable, alright? But I'm taking my things with me."

He still looks uncomfortable, but nods, entering her room and making a beeline for the window. He peers outside and some weirdly complicated hand signals follow. Caroline watches with interest, and a little bit of annoyance, "Let me guess, you're not the only one Klaus sent?"

"No. You merit quite the security detail. I just drew the short straw and had to come up and convince you to come with us."

Caroline's jaw drops, as she digs out a pair of jeans, stepping into them and jerking them up, "Excuse you, I am delightful."

His face turns panicked, and he sputters for a moment, "No! I didn't mean it like that. Klaus just said that you weren't likely to want to come with us, and that we weren't to snap your neck unless it was the absolute last resort, and…"

"You should probably stop talking," Caroline tells him, clipped but perfectly serious, her anger growing. "Because I'm betting Klaus probably didn't want me to know  _that_  little tidbit, and we  _will_  be discussing it later."

The vampire cringes, turning away mutters, "Well, there goes my arm," before he lets the curtain fall back into place.

Caroline speeds around the room, tossing her absolute essentials and a change of clothes into a tote bag before. She slips on a pair of flip flops. When she's done, she heads to the door, tossing back, "Coming, oh bodyguard of mine?" as she breezes out the door.

He makes an irritated noise, and rushes to follow her, lifting her bag off of her shoulder. Caroline gives him a dirty look, but allows it. They're silent on the way downstairs (and she's a little annoyed that he'd vetoed the elevator like this was a spy movie) and out on to the street. It's relatively quiet, but this is New Orleans, and so there's still some stragglers heading home from bars and parties. Caroline immediately spots three other vampires, and she assumes that there's more that she's not aware of.

A slight pang of fear gives her pause, because maybe this was more serious then she'd realized. And maybe she should quit being a dick. "So what's the plan?" she asks. "Do we have to go on some weird convoluted drive now? Throw off tails, or whatever?"

Her guard smiles slightly, motions over to the black SUV at the curb. "Not quite. It's pretty obvious that we'd take you to Klaus, and no one's enough of an idiot to try to storm the compound with all of the Originals there. We'll go directly."

He opens the door for her, and Caroline slides in obligingly. He follows her and the driver pulls away the second the door slams shut, driving at a speed that seems illegal to Caroline. And kind of makes her want to put on her seatbelt, despite the fact that a car accident would only result in mild to moderate pain that would go away once she sucked down enough blood.

Old habits (and a million and one parental lectures) die hard.

It's a short drive, the swanky hotel Klaus had set her up in (after her reservation at a much more reasonably priced chain mysteriously disappeared) not far from where he lived. They pull up the driveway, right to the doors. Another SUV pulls in right behind them. Her guard motions for her to go out the opposite side, the one closest to the mansion's front door.

Caroline rolls her eyes, already over all the cloak and dagger stuff, but exits out where he'd indicated. Her beef wasn't with him, so no need to make the guy's life more difficult than it already was. The front door opens, as soon as her feet hit the ground. She looks up, barb on her tongue, expecting Klaus. But it's Marcel, and she deflates. "Hey, Marcel!" Caroline greets, falsely cheerful. "Fancy meeting you here. Are you being guarded, or doing the guarding?"

"Little bit of both," he tells her, with an easy smile. Caroline finds herself returning it, mostly because it's hard not to. She'd been introduced to Marcel on her first visit, had been incredulous when Klaus had relayed the tale of how he'd raised the man. And kind of shocked that he seemed so well adjusted, but she kept that part to herself. She liked him, his easy charm and quick laugh, and the way he refused to cower in Klaus' presence like so many people seemed to. "Not sure when Klaus will be back. He said to set you up in…"

"The blue bedroom? Across from his?" Caroline guesses. It was the same one she'd stayed in before, and she suspected had been decorated with her tastes in mind. It was incredibly presumptuous, but Caroline was more annoyed that Klaus had been right to do it. She had shown up, of her own volition, after all.

Marcel nods, and Caroline reaches over and wrestles her bag away from Klaus' minion, "I'll take that, thank you. I've been delivered, as promised. Unharmed. And now I'm back to being pissed." She stomps away, ignoring Marcel's laugh. It's a teeny bit childish, she recognizes. But if Klaus, Mr. 1000 year old immortal hybrid, could throw the occasional tantrum why couldn't she?"

She ignores everyone that she passes,  _so_  not up to making polite conversation. She finds the correct room, fully intending to enter and flop down onto the bed to silently scream into the pillows. But she pauses, her eyes catching on Klaus' room across the hall, noting the slightly ajar door.

Caroline hesitates for only a second, before stepping over and pushing it wider. The covers of his bed are mussed, his closet door open too. The lights are on, like he'd left in a hurry. She crosses the threshold, before she can really think about if she  _should_.

She'd spent hours upon hours of her last visit there, had decided to try and avoid that, this time. Because she hadn't come to New Orleans for sex. Just for company, a little breathing room.

Her visit over Christmas had been incredible, exactly what she'd needed at the time. She'd returned to Mystic Falls feeling more like herself, and ready to tackle her next semester at school. But it hadn't been long before she'd felt herself starting to drift. She liked her classes, was pretty consistently kicking ass in them, to the point that they were sometimes kind of boring. And then there was Bonnie, and Bonnie's determination to break Elena's curse. Caroline kept getting sucked in the research, to errands of the supernatural variety.

Fun, exciting, adrenaline rushes, puzzles that actually challenged her. It made getting back into the college routine even harder.

And sometimes she wondered why she bothered. It's not like she had parents to disappoint with her potential drop out status.

But that was quitter talk, and Caroline Forbes wasn't a quitter.

She handled it for as well as she could, ate her feelings and took long punishing runs. But she'd felt the same feeling she'd battled in December creeping up on her, knew she was close to snapping. So she'd called Klaus. And spent an embarrassingly long time babbling about her problems.

And he'd listened patiently, asking occasional questions, but letting her go at her own pace.

"Sounds like you need another break, love," he'd observed innocently, after she'd run out of words.

Caroline had privately agreed. And while popping down to NOLA for periodic stress relieving sex marathons  _sounded_  like a good idea in theory, she knew that it just wasn't practical. Klaus had been up front about the things he felt for her, and while Caroline wasn't there, she knew she very well could be, someday.

No need to hurry that along.

She had so much she wanted to do and see before then. Settling down at twenty would have been nuts had she been a regular old human, it was out of the question for a vampire with lifetimes stretching before her.

As if he'd sensed her unease (and Klaus was good at reading her, so maybe he had) Klaus questioned her when her silence dragged on, "What's the matter, Caroline? You had fun, the last time you were here, did you not? And we haven't even scratched the surface of all that culture I promised you."

She'd groped for the right words, found them completely absent. "I just…"

"You just…" he prompted, beginning to sound confused.

"I don't want to lead you on," she'd blurted out. And then immediately felt mortified. "Oh my god, that came out conceited. I know you're not like, pining for me or whatever. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if you're in bed with another person as we speak. Because why wouldn't you be, right?" She'd forced a laugh, high and unnatural, cringing the entire time.

Mercifully Klaus interrupted her, sounding more amused then offended, "Caroline, I can assure you that I'd never be so impolite as to carry on a conversation about your personal troubles while I had company. And it's only 11 AM. And I am perfectly capable of recognizing that you're not in the market for a deep commitment at this point in your life."

She'd blown out a breath, unsure of what to say. Had settled on, "Oh. So…"

"We're friends, are we not? Who's to say there can't be occasional benefits to that friendship, while you discover what you want out of your immortal life?"

Caroline had snorted, "It's now officially my mission to hear you say fuck buddies. Because I think it'll be hilarious."

"Well then you probably shouldn't have told me that, hmm?" he'd pointed out, sounding annoyingly reasonable.

"What if I'm not interested in benefits?" she'd asked, more for curiosity's sake then anything. She'd pretty much given up on anyone other than Klaus ever starring in her fantasies. And the idea of getting to live them, with only the strings that already existed attached, was incredibly tempting. But there was a teeny voice in her head, grating and forceful, that told her Klaus wouldn't be interested in her without the promise of sex.

But Klaus hadn't hesitated, "Up to you, love. I was perfectly content to leave you in peace in the guest room, if you'll recall. I enjoy your company, publically and privately."

She'd bit her lip, to keep in the grin his words inspired, despite the fact that there was no one around to see her. Because they were perfect, and just what she'd needed.

"I guess I'll price out hotels then," she'd replied, trying to sound casual.

That he'd objected to, sounding offended by the idea, "Whatever for? I've more than enough space to accommodate you."

But Caroline had insisted, held her ground as they'd bickered.

And then  _again_ , once her booking had mysteriously disappeared.

And now here she was, in Klaus' bedroom.

It was almost funny, if she really thought about it. Caroline had tried so hard to keep things casual, to prove that she and Klaus could be friends. They'd done a fair approximation of it, over the course of her visit. He remained an exceptional tour guide, told fascinating stories, and made her laugh. Had only touched her perfunctorily, a hand on her back here, a brush of his arm against hers there.

But she'd sensed him watching her sometimes, a weight to his gaze that made it clear that he had to think about his actions, that the restraint was a choice, and not something he wanted.

And she appreciated it, honestly. Even as she'd kind of wondered why  _she_  was holding back.

Caroline throws her bag down on his couch, flopping down next to it and kicking off her sandals. She puts her feet up on the coffee table, and glances around for a remote control. Finds it, and seriously considered snooping through his DVR recordings.

Manages not to. Barely. Mostly because she'll be disappointed if she found out it was all boring history documentaries and films with subtitles. She liked to imagine that Klaus had a ridiculous secret addiction to competitive cooking shows. Maybe recorded the Westminster Dog Show.

Better to maintain a little mystery.

Caroline finds a movie she'd seen a million times, an old teen comedy that she and Elena and Bonnie used to watch at sleepovers. She tries to keep her ears focused beyond the room, wants to be ready when Klaus comes back, so she could work herself back up about him being so freaking overbearing. Properly convey just how not cool she thought it was. But her eyes droop, and the couch is crazy comfortable.

So of course she falls asleep.

She's awoken far more pleasantly the next time, her head buried in Klaus' bare shoulder as he carries her. She finds herself inhaling deeply, recognizing that he's just showered, her lips brushing against his skin when she mumbles, "I'm mad at you."

She feels it when he laughs, his chest moving against her. "Even while I'm so kindly saving you from that dreadfully cramped sleeping position you'd adopted?"

He sets her down on a bed, and she realizes he's brought her to the guest room, from the weak light coming in through the windows. Softens slightly, because he really didn't have to go to the trouble. She doesn't fight him, when he shifts her to pull the blankets up and over her shoulders. "Vampire," she grumbles up at him, turning over and getting comfy. "Cricks are temporary."

It's a struggle to stay awake, and Klaus reaching up to smooth her hair away from her face doesn't help. His fingertips linger on her cheek when he pulls back, and she finds herself sighing softly, "Sleep, Caroline. I promise to listen to you berate me to your heart's content tomorrow. In fact, I have an activity planned that should be most helpful in venting your anger."

Caroline's drifting off before she can muster the focus to think on that statement any harder. But it was definitely suspicious.

* * *

 

"I am fully aware of the fact that you're a serial killer, you know. So it's a little sketchy that you're taking me deep into the woods."

Klaus seems unbothered by her sniping, "Nonsense, love. We've spent plenty of quality time in the great outdoors, have we not? Adventuring, burying bodies," he throws a look over his shoulder, heated and mischievous, "Etcetera, etcetera."

She rolls her eyes, huffs in exaggerated annoyance. Doesn't fool him, judging by the soft laugh he lets out. "We're almost there," he tells her. "Might as well hurry up." Then he's flashing, speeding away from her. It's instinctive to give chase, and she feels her face change, her vision sharpen. Slides to a halt, her boots kicking up hunks of earth, when she catches up to him in a large clearing.

Caroline glances around, sees nothing of note. Klaus has stripped out of his jacket, tossed it aside. His eyes linger on her monster's face with great interest, and she realizes he's only seen it when they've been having sex, her lips stained red with his blood. Her ears heat but Klaus he refrains from commenting. "What are we doing out here?" Caroline asks.

"We're going to fight," Klaus tells her calmly, pushing up his sleeves.

Not exactly news to Caroline. "Um, yeah. We do that all the time. Why did we have to come out to the middle of nowhere when I totally could have yelled at you in the comfort of your fancy office?"

"Physically, I mean. In addition to our usual exchanging of words. Elijah gets quite touchy when I break things, so I thought it best we remove ourselves from anywhere there's priceless antiques."

"What?" Caroline finds herself squeaking, "Why would we  _do_  that?"

"Simple, really. Your presence, and my reaction to it, has been noted. Last night I killed the most pressing threats to your safety in a manner that will discourage others from similar courses of action. But, there's always an individual more idiotic out there, so I can't guarantee that it won't be attempted again."

Caroline's skeptical, "So, are you telling me that you'll stop sending vamp SWAT teams after me if you think I can defend myself?"

He actually laughs, "No, of course not. I'll take no chances with your safety, love."

And yep, she's right back to being pissed off. The insinuation that she can't take care of herself making her blood boil. Caroline lunges for him, but he dodges, leaving her stumbling passed the spot he'd been standing. Klaus tsks disapprovingly, "Sloppy, sweetheart. I'm sure you can do better than that."

Caroline swallows a growl, whirls to face him. He looks entirely too relaxed, and it fans the flames of her annoyance. Caroline finds her knees bending, her hands balling into fists, as she studies him carefully, shifting slightly.

Klaus grins, clearly pleased, as he follows her movements, "Good. You have speed, and strength, but that's only a start. You need to learn to outthink your opponents, because it's possible they'll be older then you. Likely even, given your relative newness to this life."

She absorbs his words, because she's not an idiot. She's still not remotely happy about his high handedness yesterday, how he'd snapped his fingers and had his underlings remove her from her hotel. But she recognizes the opportunity he's offering her, and she does love to learn, adores a new challenge. She's not afraid to fight, knows that it's unlikely that she'll never need to. She's not Elena, with men coming out of the woodwork to throw themselves in front of danger for her. And she wouldn't want to be.

Caroline's confident in her ability to handle herself, and whatever Klaus teaches her can only make her more so.

She's more cautious in her second attack, throwing her left fist in a wide arc, and trying to jam her foot into his knee. He blocks her kick neatly, grabbing her wrist and pulling her off balance, her shoulder crashing into his chest. He gets his arm under her throat, "Better. But I could snap your neck right now, and this would all be over."

Caroline jams her elbow into his stomach, and his grip loosens enough for her to slip away from him. She gets behind him, kicks at the back of his knee. Klaus dodges, sweeping his leg out and knocking hers out from under her. Lighting fast he reaches out, grabbing her arm just before she hits the ground. Pulls her up, lets her straighten her clothes. "You're going easy on me," Caroline complains.

Klaus doesn't deny it, "For now. I've no doubt I won't be, once you've learned a thing or two."

He's probably humoring her, but Caroline takes it as a personal challenge. Doesn't wait for him to prompt her before attacking again.

He'd really kind of asked for it.

* * *

 

They're at it for hours, and Klaus is true to his word, parrying back her blows with more force and speed, his movements growing more complicated, once he thinks she can handle it. When the sun begins to set, she's filthy. Her shirt's torn (courtesy of a tree he'd tossed her at) and her hair's a windblown mess. She's panting and a little sore.

She's also really  _happy_.

Something she realizes when Klaus has her pinned against a tree.

Caroline can't help the bright smile, the laugh that bubbles out. It only grows, loud and carefree, at the bewildered expression on Klaus' face. He eases up the pressure, still looking confused. Caroline's hands fly out, knotting in his shirt, before he can move too far away. "Alright, love?" he asks, peering at her curiously.

"The best I've been in a while," she answers immediately and honestly.

And then she has another 'screw it' moment exactly like the one she'd had in his bedroom at Christmas. Where she was sick to death of overthinking, just wanted to feel for a while. He seems to recognize it, an eyebrow creeping up, "Caroline," he drawls, his hands going to her waist.

"Say fuck buddies," she demands playfully.

"No," Klaus denies. But she can't care about being thwarted when his hands drop to her ass and lift.

Caroline wraps her legs around his hips, bracing her back against the tree, "You are zero fun, Klaus," she complains, winding her fingers into the necklaces at his throat.

She's sure he wanted to protest that, but she kisses him, before he can, scraping the nails of her free hand through his hair and tilting his head. Her fangs are out, she'd long since stopped trying to force them back, the adrenaline of the fight too strong. Caroline moans when they cut into his lip, latches on and sucks the tiny stream of blood. Klaus' hips push into hers more roughly, an answering groan rumbling through his chest, trapping her against the tree and grinding into her center.

He'd been more controlled then she was all afternoon, but when she pulls back his eyes are gold, and she doesn't even hesitate, before tipping her head and baring her neck. Klaus grits out a curse, runs his nose down the line of her throat. But he doesn't break the skin, and she whines when he pulls away, setting her down. Klaus' hands rush between them, tearing at her jeans, breaking the button off and shoving the denim down her thighs.

Then he bites her, just as his hand slips into her panties.

She's been wet forever, his body against hers all day a distraction and a temptation. Caroline sobs out a moan, as his fingers slip into her in one slick movement, his palm teasing her clit. He hooks them inside of her as he drinks, unerringly finding the spot that leaves her vision blurry and her thighs shaking, rubbing it until she's panting.

Her legs can barely hold her, when he's done and pulling back.

He meets her eyes as her licks her blood from his lips, sucks the fingers that had just been inside of her immediately after. Makes a wild noise of enjoyment, "I can't decide which tastes better, sweetheart," he murmurs. "Together they're divine."

She lunges, and this time he catches her, wrapping a hand around her neck as she licks into his mouth. Caroline can taste her arousal, and her blood on his tongue, and it makes her  _burn_. She lets out a high pitched noise of her own, her want making her inarticulate, frantically tearing his shirt off.

She's not sure who pushes who, but they tumble to the forest floor, and he's rolling her onto her back. He's no kinder to her shirt then she'd been to his, and it comes off in little more than scraps, discarded without concern. One finger snaps the front of her bra open, and his hot mouth wraps around a nipple as soon as it's revealed, his hands tight around her ribcage.

It feels incredible, her back bows when he uses his teeth. But foreplay is for beds, and Caroline needs Klaus inside of her. She flips him over, clawing at his belt. She's barely torn it away when the world spins again, and sticks and tiny pebbles are biting into her skin. It's déjà vu, and not in a fun way, "We are not doing  _that_  again," she rasps out. "Take off your pants and fuck me."

His jaw clenches, eyes drifting shut as he goes rigid above her. Only for a second, and then Klaus uses full hybrid strength and speed, tearing the rest of their clothes away, and hitching one of her thighs over his forearm. There's no easing, he's inside of her in one firm plunge, but it's exactly what she'd wanted, rolling her hips up into his with a sigh, encouraging him to move.

He's fast and rough and she loves it, calling his name, voice wrecked and hoarse, when he manages to hit the perfect spot, nails drawing blood from his back when he grinds against her clit.

Her heads tips back sharply, her back arched to rub her nipples against the lean muscles of his chest, and she's riding the edge of something big. Klaus seems to know it, eyes hot on her face in the fading light, his lips tracing the skin of her throat. She feels his fangs, and she clenches down, just before she feels the sting of his bite. It hits her like a wave, muscles locking as she shouts her release, distantly registering Klaus' groan as his hips jerk frantically.

He's still inside of her when he rolls them again, cradling her head and pulling it to his throat, urging her to drink. The taste of him sends new flutters of pleasure through her, leaves him gasping, his cock hardening once more, as she writhes on top of him.

Klaus' hands run up her spine, and there's a question in his eyes when he looks up at her. She smirks at him, pulls herself up so her mouth hovers over his, "Still won't say it, huh?"

He lets out a long suffering sigh, but his eyes are laughing. He enunciates carefully, "Fuck buddies."

"Yes!" Caroline crows. "Totally as weird as I pictured. You're accent's way too fancy to make it work."

He looks around skeptically, at the haphazard piles of disturbed earth, "This is the opposite of fancy, love."

Caroline shrugs, unconcerned, undulates her hips and watches his lashes flutter in pleasure, eyes almost glowing in the low light, "I don't mind. We do good work in the forest."

Klaus grins, a challenge, and he sits up, spreads her thighs over his lap so he sinks deeper into her body, but keeps his hands clamped to her hips so she can't move, "We do good work in a bed, too," he points out. Sounding impressively nonchalant, considering she can feel the tautness of him, his muscles pulled tight with his continued restraint.

Caroline ducks her head, licks along the cords of his throat, "Later," she breathes out, her thighs clamping tightly to his sides.

It seems to be what he'd wanted to here, and he pulls her up along the length of his cock, lets her drop down. Caroline's head falls back with a groan, her hips picking up a rhythm he has no trouble matching. She comes again, but he doesn't, flipping her over onto her knees before burying himself back inside of her.

They wreck the clearing, and when they leave, the sky inky black above them, Caroline's secretly kind of pleased that she's left a mark on New Orleans.

She and Klaus haven't solved anything, but maybe they don't need to. Maybe they don't need labels; maybe they can just be whatever they want to be at any given time.

Because Caroline's come to accept that time is one thing they have in abundance, is slowly coming to realize that Klaus is something she'll likely never shake.

She's not all in, not yet. But he'll wait. She thinks he'll know when she's  _sure,_ maybe even before she is. Caroline knows herself well enough to admit that she'll probably be due a freak out or twelve right around then _._

He'll let her, and then he'll chase her. Because when the time comes Klaus won't be satisfied with less then everything.


End file.
